


stasis hollows out our heavy bones

by heylovely_itsme



Series: this pain wouldn't be for evermore [1]
Category: The West Wing
Genre: AHH I CANT BELIEVE IM POSTING THIS, Because it's me, Episode: s01e22 What Kind of Day Has It Been, Episode: s02e01 In the Shadow of Two Gunmen: Part 1, Episode: s02e02 In the Shadow of Two Gunmen: Part 2, F/F, F/M, Jewish Character, Judaism, NOT JOSH, OKAY BASICALLY: CJ GOT SHOT AT ROSSLYN, Rosslyn AU, also cj and andy are both bisexual i forgot to say that, also this is an ot3 heavy fic, and it was really important to me to get it as accurate as possible, and it's definitely going to be a series, and leo is in here for like a second, and then SHE LEFT THEM AND IT MAKES ME SAD TO THINK ABOUT, and this is in the same timeline as "all the loves we've had and lost", but jewish members of the fandom, but there will!!!! be fluff, donna is in here for a little bit, in the next parts of the series, i’m really proud of the final product!, okay i think that’s it!, okay on to real tags:, please lmk if there’s something wrong or inaccurate, so andy toby and cj were all together and happy and in love, so are abbey and zoey bartlet, so i can't wait to add more to the angsty mess this is, so this is exactly as angsty as it sounds, sorry for these miles of tags, there’s a scene where josh and toby pray, they'll all be in here more later in the series though!, wait what else... OH, yay! it doesn't really feel finished but i'm really proud of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:33:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28370931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heylovely_itsme/pseuds/heylovely_itsme
Summary: “CJ! God, I was so worried— didn’t you hear me shouting?” Toby said, running over to her. His mouth went dry when he saw her. And all of a sudden, he couldn’t breathe.“CJ?” he whispered, swallowing hard as he got closer. Her head tilted to one side, and he wanted to throw up. There was blood on her shirt, and on her hands. So much blood. No, this couldn’t be happening. Not to CJ.“I need a doctor, please!! Can someone help me!”(CJ gets shot at Rosslyn instead of Josh. They all find a way to get through it, together.)
Relationships: C. J. Cregg/Andrea Wyatt, C. J. Cregg/Andrea Wyatt/Toby Ziegler, C. J. Cregg/Toby Ziegler, Josh Lyman & Toby Ziegler
Series: this pain wouldn't be for evermore [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2077941
Comments: 13
Kudos: 26





	stasis hollows out our heavy bones

**Author's Note:**

> hi hi hi thank you so much for reading this! i wasn't expecting this to ever see the light of day until about two weeks ago, when some of my awesome tumblr friends convinced me to take this from a 2k thing in my notes app to this, something i'm really proud of! so THANK YOU. 
> 
> shout out to @lifeisagiftdontwasteit on tumblr, for encouraging me to continue this— thank you so much! i hope you like this :D
> 
> and, of course, to @aerielz, who inspires and excites me EVERY TIME WE TALK. i'm so so so grateful for you, ariel, and i really hope you like this!! keep an eye out for your *bonus scene* coming later today / tomorrow!! you're genuinely the best and i'm SO glad we're friends! psst: go read her fics, guys, they're wonderful.
> 
> tw: blood and mentions of getting shot, take care of yourself please! don't read this if that could be potentially triggering or upsetting— if you aren't sure, leave a comment with what you're concerned about and i'll tell you! 
> 
> also thank you so much to everyone on tumblr who helped me with the prayer scene, i really wanted to be as accurate as possible with jewish customs! as i said in the tags, let me know if there's anything that i should change.
> 
> i hope everyone reading this enjoys it or, well, doesn't hate me too much for the angsty feelings!! thanks again for reading!

It was a good night. The President had just finished his speech, and everyone was feeling electric. Days like these reminded CJ why she loved her job-she never got tired of the way President Bartlet connected with people, truly trying to engage and inform them about whatever the hot-button topic of the day was. He really was a good man. She walked out of the Newseum, and saw Toby walking with the President. She watched him laugh, really laugh, and smiled. She loved his laugh— it was rare, and unexpected, and only occurred when something really good had happened. And tonight, something good had happened. 

She knew Toby had been freaking out over his brother’s space shuttle, so seeing him laugh made her heart feel so much lighter. David and Toby weren’t super close anymore, but she knew how scared he got at the thought of losing him. Knowing Toby, he would use this as an opportunity to reach out to David. He may have been a grump most of the time, but under the mean exterior was a huge heart. Toby cared so deeply about the people in his life, and CJ was lucky enough to be one of those people. 

She tried to catch up with Josh and Sam, who were in front of her, already preparing for tomorrow. That’s what they did, the two of them. One thing down, a million more to go. Josh, especially, never stopped— he was always thinking, and planning, and running towards his next idea. She sometimes wanted to scream at him— “Enjoy this!! Right now!” but never did. That was just how his brain worked, and she couldn’t help but love him for that. Plus, he had Donna to slow him down. The two of them had a partnership that was equally mesmerizing and frustrating to see in action. They were like two hands of a clock, anchoring each other and complementing each other in the best way.

They really needed to get their acts together, CJ thought— not for the first time. The two of them had enough chemistry to blow something up, but neither was smart enough to do something about it. Or dumb enough, depending how you looked at it. 

CJ was yanked back to reality by a vibration in her pocket. She pulled out her phone, glancing at the notification. “1 MISSED CALL — ANDY” it read. CJ stopped in her tracks, staring at it. She hadn’t talked to Andy in a while. They were both so busy, cancelling lunch four weeks in a row. CJ missed her. God, she missed her. She walked back to the front of the building, dialing a number that she knew by heart. 

“Hey, Andy, it’s me. Sorry I missed you— the President just finished a speech, we’re walking out now.” 

Maybe it was the high from watching the President talk, maybe it was just the feeling of having a good day, but CJ was feeling brave. 

“Uh, I miss you. We should get lunch tomorrow, if you’re free.” 

She winced slightly at how awkward she was being. CJ was the Press Secretary! She spoke for a living— why was it that talking to Andrea Wyatt on the phone made her feel like a teenage girl again? Well, she knew why, but she pushed that thought out of her head right now. Andy was probably busy now, but maybe they would talk later. She really needed some girl talk. CJ loved her spin boys, of course, but a girl needed some female friends. Donna was great, but sometimes it got tiring, never having any friends outside the White House. Not that the way she felt about Donna was anything like what she felt for Andy— or what she used to feel for Andy. CJ suddenly remembered she was still on the phone, and said a rushed goodbye. 

“Okay, bye! Love you.” She only realized her slip-up after snapping the phone shut. 

Damn it.

She hadn’t said that to Andy in... years, especially not on the phone. She did love her, of course. Both of them knew that. But knowing in the back of your mind that your ex girlfriend still loved you was different than hearing it! Ex-girlfriend. It almost made CJ laugh to think about herself as Andy’s ex-girlfriend, but that was pretty much what she was. You’re overthinking this, she reminded herself. Andy was smart— she was a Congresswoman! She would know that CJ didn’t mean to say that. 

Taking a deep breath, she walked back into the crowd. Stopping by the metal gates to look for everyone, the only person she could find was Gina. CJ turned her back to the building, looking for Toby, or anyone she knew. The next thing she heard was Gina’s voice, screaming “GUN!!” 

CJ fell forward, and her hands grabbed something cold. The bitter taste of metal filled her mouth. She felt her necklace sliding down her neck, the only sensation registering in her head. Then, everything went black. 

* * *

His head hurt. He didn’t know when he had hit it, or on what, all he could tell was that it hurt. Toby grabbed the nearest surface and pulled himself up, wincing at the shock of the cold metal on his hands. He turned in a circle, looking for someone, anyone, who he recognized. He let out a deep breath at the sight of Leo and the President both being put into cars. It was hard to believe that had been shot. Someone had tried to shoot the President, and Toby needed to find his people. He needed to find CJ, and Sam, and Josh. 

Where was CJ? It wasn’t some macho thing, that Toby wanted to find her because she was a woman. She would kill him if she knew he was even thinking that. But he didn’t care, not right now. This was more than some misguided savior complex, this was panic and confusion and fear. Cold, earth-shattering fear for the woman he loved. For his best friend. Toby pushed the other thoughts out of his head— he couldn’t think about love right now. She was his best friend, and Toby needed to find her. Toby ran through the crowd, yelling her name with all the utter desperation coursing through his veins. 

“CJ?” he yelled, walking slowly so he didn’t miss her. He walked straight into Charlie, noticing how stressed the younger man looked. Toby didn’t have time to be stressed, not now. Not ever. 

“Hey, Charlie, are you okay?” Toby asked, actually caring about the answer for once in his life. 

“Yeah.” Charlie looked panicked, and Toby was reminded of his past experience with guns. This had to be reminding him of his mom, of the other shooting that had changed his life. 

Toby opened his mouth to say something, but was at a loss for words. He would talk to Charlie about his mom later— well, he would try to. Right now, he needed to find the others. 

Find them, then take care of them. That was his job. 

“Have you seen CJ?” Toby asked, searching the crowd near the cars for her. At 6 feet tall, she was hard to miss, something that he had never been so grateful for in his life. 

“She’s in the car, with Leo. Right?” 

Toby furrowed his brow, searching his memory. 

“No, she wasn’t,” he sighed. “I saw Leo, he was talking to Zoey’s agent, Gina. Not CJ.” 

He turned away from Charlie, not caring at all about being polite. Not when people were missing, not when she was missing. Toby walked away from Charlie, searching everywhere for a familiar face. Finally, he saw her, sitting down against the metal gates. 

“CJ! God, I was so worried— didn’t you hear me shouting?” Toby said, running over to her. His mouth went dry when he saw her. And all of a sudden, he couldn’t breathe. 

“CJ?” he whispered, swallowing hard as he got closer. Her head tilted to one side, and he wanted to throw up. There was blood on her shirt, and on her hands. So much blood. No, this couldn’t be happening. Not to CJ. 

“I need a doctor, please!! Can someone help me!” 

He knelt down to her, grabbing her hand with an urgency that felt grossly insufficient for the situation they were in. God, couldn’t anyone hear him?

Toby’s hand fell on something metal and small, and for one small, terrifying second, he thought it was a bullet. Or a bomb. His meter for common sense and appropriate thoughts had been shot to hell the minute he’d laid eyes on her, so the thought made sense to him. But it was just a necklace, which for some reason, felt worse. CJ’s necklace— her mom’s last present to her before she died when she was still a little girl. Toby knew she loved that necklace more than anything, and the necklace lying limply on the ground felt like a concrete sign that something was wrong. CJ had been shot. Her blood was on his hands, and he couldn’t breathe. 

“I need help! Please!” he gasped out. 

As he held her hand, Toby felt her squeeze back a little, something that brought a smile to his face for a moment. Could she could feel him, next to her? Did she know that he was there, trying to help her? Toby felt her throat for a pulse, screaming on the inside. He knew she was alive, but needed to be a hundred percent sure. It felt as if he had been taken out of his body, like he was watching someone else walk through the motions. This couldn’t be happening, she couldn’t have been shot. He heard the sound of footsteps running towards them, and looked up. Josh and Sam stood there, frozen, looking about as sick as Toby felt. 

“CJ…” Josh whispered, feeling like he was about to collapse. 

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but the look in Toby’s eyes stopped him. He looked terrified, and Sam realized nothing he could say would make him feel better. As they stood staring at her, CJ’s head leaned to the right. Sam moved frantically, catching her head as she fell. Nothing was the same anymore— all that mattered was saving CJ. 

They pushed through the fear, yelling and screaming for help until someone finally heard. Toby knew he should say something to the two men, something to make them feel better, but how could he? No amount of reassuring words would save her. All that could was doctors, and maybe a miracle. 

* * *

All Toby remembered from the ambulance ride over were the sirens. Loud, and frightening, and the only sign that CJ was going to be okay. That was all that mattered to him, that she was okay. Because she was all that mattered. _Please, God, let her be okay._ CJ was strong, and brilliant, and beautiful, and a million other good things Toby couldn’t put into words. She and Andy were the two people he loved the most, the two people he would do anything for. How had their lives gotten to the point where he couldn’t tell either of them that? Oh god, Andy. She had no idea what was going on, and Toby would have to tell her. He sighed at the thought of her reaction, knowing how painful it would be to relay the news. Andy loved CJ so much, just as much as Toby did. This would rip her apart.

As he sat there, lost in thought, he stroked CJ’s hair. It was hot, and sweaty, and stuck to her forehead in a way that would make her so embarrassed if she knew. As if she could her his thoughts, CJ leaned into his touch. Toby felt himself tear up, and willed himself to stop, before noticing that everyone’s eyes were glassy. The boys sitting around her were all touching her in some way- Toby sat with her, touching her hair and muttering prayers under his breath. Josh had grabbed her hand as they sat in the ambulance, and he gripped it like it was the only thing keeping him alive. Maybe it was. And Sam, who looked absolutely terrified at the blood seeping from her chest, had taken permanent residence by her feet. It was the only place left for him to sit in the ambulance, and so he lay his hands gently on her legs, trying not to cry. How could he not, though? This powerful, indomitable woman was barely hanging onto her life, and none of them could do anything to stop it. 

Suddenly, the ambulance came to a sudden stop at the red light, and CJ’s eyes opened. The three of them stared at her, not knowing what to do. Toby was the first to recover, framing her face with his hands and talking to her. 

“CJ! Baby, it’s going to be okay. It’s okay, we’re all with you.” He sounded panicked, but relieved at the sight of her regaining consciousness. Both Sam and Josh were taken aback by the obvious love in his voice, and the blatant terms of endearment. But neither said a thing. 

“Toby,” CJ whispered, wincing at the pain she felt. 

“Hey, Jeanie. I’m so sorry.” 

Toby got choked up, feeling embarrassed at the way he was acting in front of Sam and Josh. On any other day, he would have never done this. But for now, nothing else mattered except for her. 

CJ could barely breathe. All she could feel was pain, and the wet stain of blood on her jacket, and the hard jerk of the ambulance as it moved. But when Toby called her Jeanie, she managed to smile. He hadn’t called her that in years, not since back when they were together. She heard him, and Sam, and Josh, but couldn’t focus on anything. It all faded into the background. Her eyes felt heavy, like someone was shutting them for her.

She felt a hand on her face, holding her gently, and she knew it was Toby. He had held her so many times, she knew his hands like she knew her own. They always made her feel better- rough, a consequence of his nonstop writing, but always gentle when he touched her. As he stroked her face, she closed her eyes. 

CJ drifted in and out of awareness as the doctors riding with them continued to look at her injuries. Josh felt his head start to hurt again, though he couldn’t tell if it was from staring at all of CJ’s wounds, or if it was an injury of his own. He lifted a hand to his hairline to feel if there was a bump, and felt something sticky. Josh brought the hand back down, and stared at the dry blood. He couldn’t tell if his head was still bleeding, but figured that he could get it checked out at the hospital. He didn’t want to distract the doctors from helping CJ. They needed to focus on her. 

As he thought that, the ambulance pulled up in front of the hospital and people spilled out. There was screaming, and yelling, and Josh felt exhausted from all the chaos, though he wasn’t the one who it was centered around. As the doctors rushed CJ into the hospital, screaming things Josh couldn’t begin to understand, he felt faint. The three of them ran behind her, Josh holding his hands up to avoid getting blood on anything. Josh and Sam did their best to stay out of the way- they were both terrified at the amount of blood on CJ’s body. Josh hadn’t realized how bad her wound was. She had been shot, someone had shot CJ Cregg. 

It made no sense. 

They had all been warned about shootings when they first started working in the White House, but never had someone said, “They might try to shoot you too.” It had always been about the President. Josh looked around in alarm, realizing he hadn’t yet seen the President. Or Leo, now that he thought about it. 

“Sam, did you see the President?” Josh asked, trying to remember if anyone had told him where he was. 

“Yeah, he got in the car with Ron Butterfield. And Leo’s gone too.” 

Josh sighed in relief, then immediately felt bad. CJ had been shot, brilliant, innocent CJ. What kind of person would do that? Josh was brought back to life by Sam’s hand on his shoulder, gripping it tightly as they watched CJ being helped out of the stretcher. He had to be strong for her, to be there for her like he hadn’t been for Joanie. He couldn’t lose another sister. He didn’t know if he would survive it— if any of them would. And he sure didn’t want to find out. He blinked back a tear, running behind the stretcher as she was rolled into the hospital. 

“She’ll be okay, Josh.” Donna was right behind him- right there when he needed her, just like always. He didn’t know when she had gotten there, or when he had moved away from Sam, but as he whirled around and threw himself into her arms, he didn’t care. Nothing else mattered, not the optics of the hug or the laws of traffic Donna must have broken to be here for him. His tears soaked her shirt, but Josh didn’t even know when he had started to cry. He couldn’t even bring himself to be embarrassed about it as she pulled him closer. “She has to be.”

* * *

He found Toby sitting in the waiting room, bent over. Even from a few steps away, it was easy to spot the posture of someone in debilitating pain. Sam tapped his shoe on the linoleum hospital floor and shifted awkwardly, before sitting down beside him. 

“Sam, please,” the lifeless figure next to him grumbled. “I can’t deal with you right now.” 

“Okay, ouch.” He winced at himself, a joke was decidedly not appropriate, but Sam had never been good at dealing with grief. After his aunt had died— a car crash, a tragic car crash— ten year old Sam had peered up at his mom and asked if he could write her something to say for the funeral. That, obviously, only made his mom cry harder. He had left immediately, and felt like crap the whole day. Just like right now. But this was a sharper, more acute pain. The ache of not knowing what was happening in that operating room and not knowing how to help the people outside of it. 

“I— she’s going to be okay, Toby. It’s CJ. She wouldn’t leave us to deal with you alone.” 

For a moment, Sam really thought he was going to get punched in the face. Then, Toby laughed. It was more of a scoff, really, but Sam would take what he could get. 

“God, I hope so,” Toby whispered. He turned to Sam, rubbing a hand over his weary eyes. “I can’t do this without her.” 

His breath caught— the raw emotion in his friend's voice felt like a jumble of exposed wire. Sam didn't know how to help without drawing a spark. 

He sighed. “Hopefully, we’ll never have to.” He had been lucky enough to not have to deal with any loss since that day years ago. That was, until now, when the strongest woman he knew had been taken down by a bullet that ended up in the hands of a racist teenage boy. The only other time Sam had seen grief, he had left. He wondered what other traits he had inherited from his father without knowing. 

* * *

“Mr. Ziegler, is there anyone we can call?” The doctor stood in front of him, and Toby was reminded exactly why he hated hospitals. And doctors. And, well, everyone. 

“Shouldn’t you be in there? Not, you know, wasting time talking to me when the only thing anyone you could call wants to know is that every inch of your brain is focused on that woman in there.” 

He barely felt his mouth moving through the whole tirade, not even registering the man’s hushed apology and reassurance that they were doing their best. He didn't want their best, he wanted perfection. He walked back into the waiting room, and sank slowly into a chair. The clock on the wall taunted him, hands ticking slower than seemed humanly possible. How had only an hour passed since they had left the Newseum? And how had it already been an hour? He punched the wall, hard, like that would do anything to lessen the urge to rip out his heart. Anything to stop the pain that was coming, to stop feeling the guilt he was drowning in. He should have been with her. He should have found her faster, he shouldn’t have wasted time grabbing her fucking necklace instead of calling for help. He should have done better, for her. 

The door blew open, and the icy December wind came as a shock to all of them in the waiting room. And so did the woman who came inside, wrapped in a coat that he had probably bought for her as a gift for Christmas or Chanukah or one of the eight million holidays they had celebrated together. 

“I came as soon as I heard, it was on the TV in the office, and I—“

“Andy,” he whispered. Oh, God. Andy was here, and she didn't know. Andy was here, for him, and he had to tell her.

“I’m here, Toby.” 

Her eyes were wide, and her red hair was a mess, like she had fought a war to get here. He didn’t doubt that she would, if necessary— the woman was a weapon when it came to the people she loved, careful and steady and ruthless. But the real fight started the minute he told her, and he didn't know if he was strong enough. 

“Is he okay?” 

“He?” His voice was hoarse, mind a few seconds delayed. 

“The President. None of the news sites were saying anything, and CJ wasn’t picking up her phone so I didn't know if he had been, if— if he had been shot.” 

“Oh. Yeah, he's— the President’s okay.” Toby swallowed hard, but he knew nothing would make the huge lump in his throat get any smaller. 

“Oh, thank god.” Andy sagged against the door with relief, a visible weight lifted off her shoulder. “I was so worried—” 

“Andy, CJ was hit.” His hand was shaking, and his voice followed sit. 

“Hit? I don't, what do you mean?” 

Every word she said hit him like a slap on the face. Everything he had planned to say when telling Andy flew out the window, and he bit his lip. Hard, hard enough to draw blood. Blood— just the thought made his chest tighten into a tangled web, shuddering at the memory. The blood on CJ’s jacket, her necklace, her body. Andy was living in a world where none of that had happened- and he envied her more than he thought possible. He schooled his face into an expression that was calm, passive, masking the storm of anger and hurt brewing in his body. Toby’s mouth was a loaded gun, ready and waiting for the moment he would break her heart. 

“CJ was shot.” His voice was careful, calculated— like he was a glassblower, afraid to exhale too hard and break her. 

And she hated that, the fact that he thought of her as something to protect. But more than anything, she hated that he was right. 

Her face crumpled, like a piece of tissue paper he had stomped on. She started to shake, below her jacket, where only he noticed. 

“No, she— no! She called me— this can’t, I can’t-” 

“I know,” his voice broke. 

“Goddamn it!” Her scream punctured the stillness of the hospital. She took a gasping breath as everyone stared at her. 

Congresswoman Andrea Wyatt, always in control. Always steady, always smart, always brave. But not today. This was her breaking point; this was all she could handle. Toby could tell by the look on her face that she had no idea how to deal with that. He watched her collapse into a chair with a careful eye, holding out a hand in case she fell. He knew exactly how she felt— like the ground underneath her was shaking, like the Earth was knocked off its core.

“Is she in surgery?” Andy asked, voice muffled by the pale hand she had pressed to her lips as to prevent another scream. 

“Yeah.” He drew in a shaky breath. 

“Let’s go, then.” Andy straightened up immediately, walking away.

Toby let her grab his hand, pretending not to notice the questioning stares Josh, Sam, and Donna were giving the two of them. He couldn’t care less- it wasn’t like they didn’t know how he felt. He loved Andy, always had and always would. And what he felt for CJ wasn’t stronger or less than, it was just different. And he needed them both. Toby could answer the undoubtedly nosy, judgmental questions later- right now, one of his most-loved people was lying on an operating room table, exposed and alone. That was all that mattered, and Andy knew that. She took his hand and pulled him towards the operating room. He wasn’t really clear on how she planned to find CJ’s room, but he walked silently with her regardless. That was his job here- she would figure out the details and the defense and the excuse, he just had to be there with her. They walked towards the glass window at the end of the hall, hands brushing like two scared teenagers on a first date. The fact that the two of them could walk around the hospital without any credentials— sans a connection with Abbey Bartlet— worried him, but he was extremely thankful for the half-hearted security at the moment. Andy stopped abruptly, hand extended to block him from moving. 

“That’s her.” His eyes landed on the glass window, barely registering the sight of his best friend lying on a table, trauma surgeons bustling around her. He wanted to throw up. Andy stood beside him, still as a statue.

“Toby,” her voice was jagged and painful as she watched them operate, like a knife through his heart. He grabbed her hand, pulling her into his chest.

“I know,” he soothed, combing his fingers gently through his wife’s— his ex-wife’s— hair. Toby wasn’t a soothing person in the least- one Mr. Josh Lyman had once described him as “the worst person to be standing next to at both a funeral and a party.” He wasn’t wrong. 

But Andy wasn’t a vulnerable person, either, so maybe today was an okay day to need something different. It wasn’t a normal day. There was nothing remotely normal about the way CJ’s heart no longer beating had become a possibility. She wasn’t going to let that happen, though. She was CJ Cregg— she was indomitable, and Toby knew that like he knew his name. But if she didn't have a choice, if she had to go... well, he couldn’t even think about that.

They stayed there in the hallway for what felt like hours, melting into each other. They were the only people who could understand what CJ meant to the other- and that thought terrified him more than anything. (Well, anything except what had happened today.) They had loved her for as long as they had loved each other, and now they could lose her. The only thing he could do was hold on to Andy, like a distant lifeboat that could save him as he drowned. Because Toby didn't know how to be strong, not without CJ there to hold him up. And now, he had to be. 

The two of them stood there, both facing the window, trusting each other enough to let the silence say the words for them. Like two parallel lines, always on the same path but never meeting. Well, a pair of zigzag lines would be more accurate, he supposed. The lack of connection was never the problem for the three of them, it was everything else. 

Wordlessly, he reached into his pocket and grasped CJ’s necklace. He’d managed to snatch it from the ground before getting into the car, hoping it would make her feel better when she woke up. If she woke up. He had to get used to thinking in ifs, but even imagining what would happen if she didn’t come back to him threatened to break the fragile treaty he had arranged with his mind. And that would open the floodgates of doubt, of fear, that he had managed to get past for these past few hours.

“She told me she loved me.” He looked up at that, a bit embarrassed about how easily he had buried his face in her shoulder. 

“I didn’t even know you guys had been talking, since we, uh—“ 

“Toby, we’ve been divorced for more than a year, you can say the word.” It would have sounded like a joke, if not for her watery eyes and the way her fingers were still fisted in his jacket like a kid’s on the first day of school. 

“Yeah, well,” he trailed off. “Sorry.” 

She pulled away, and he missed the warmth of her arms instantly. He had never been a person who loved hugging- he always felt trapped, like the other person wanted more from him than he was willing to give. But with Andy or CJ, it was never like that. Their touch was an anchor, pulling him into the present. They knew him well enough to completely break him with just a couple words, which also meant they could put him back together with just a touch. He hadn’t hugged her in years, not since before they divorced, and he hadn’t realized how much he had missed it. Missed her. 

Andy picked right back up with the story, sensing his mind drifting towards CJ. 

“We hadn’t been talking, that’s the thing. I called her, and she called me back, and she said it. It was an accident, but—“ 

“Maybe it wasn’t.” She took in a sharp breath, and he knew the words were cycling in her brain like a song on repeat. 

“She loved you, even after—“ he waved his hand to insinuate the events of the last ten years, the three of them crashing and colliding and breaking each other just to put each other back together again. “After everything. You know that, right?” 

Andy turned back to the window again, her reflection staring back at her like a plea to tell the truth. 

“Yeah,” she said softly, reaching out her hand to hold his. “I do.”

* * *

It had been eight hours, fifty-seven minutes, and what felt like a million seconds since he had found CJ at Rosslyn. And she still hadn’t woken up. Toby sat next to her bed, hands pressed together in a gesture echoing a prayer. He had tried unsuccessfully to get some sleep, once Abbey Bartlet had all but pushed him into an isolation unit to get him to stop yelling at hospital employees. Which was fair. It wasn’t like Toby didn’t know he was being a jackass. He just didn't care all that much. And besides, his anger was justified. What kind of hospital “didn’t disclose details” about the condition of the most important patient in the entire fucking hospital? Well, the second most important, he supposed— the only person who might be more important than CJ was the President. All he wanted to know was why the surgery had taken six hours, instead of the three hours that was average for a gunshot wound to the torso. She had been intubated about seven years ago, when the doctors had realized she couldn’t breathe on her own. That was just another sign something had gone wrong. He had done research, despite the limited information the doctor was willing to give him. But no amount of interrogating Abbey about the risk of the surgery could reassure him as much as CJ waking up would, which justified his lack of sleep. Yes, his back hurt like hell, and yes, he would pass out in a second when he got back to his apartment. But he physically couldn’t let himself do that without knowing she was okay. That would be giving up, and he couldn’t give up on her. That’s not how it worked with the two of them. 

He looked at her still figure, pale and sickly and not fully alive. He had never hated the sight of her more- well, he’d never hated the sight of her at all. But this wasn’t how it was supposed to be; him sitting bedside while a heart monitor beeped next to her. She was supposed to be with him, just like always. But CJ was passed out in a hospital bed and Toby was alone. Alone, wishing more than anything for her to wake up. He’d never ached for someone to heal before. He’d wanted it, like when he was younger and his older sister had broken her leg. But this was a different pain— this desperation would be his undoing. 

Toby rubbed a hand over his face, exhausted both physically and emotionally. He paused for a moment, then moved closer to the bed. He hadn’t wanted to pray alone, since this was meant for a synagogue or at least for when a Rabbi could come to the hospital. And he wasn’t Josh. He knew the rules for the Mi Shebeirach prayer, having said it at synagogue for years and years and years. But this was CJ, his CJ. He would do whatever he could to save her— even if it meant stretching the prayer traditions he had always done his best to abide by. 

He moved to his bag, holding his tallit in his hands gingerly. The piece of fabric had such a profound effect on his body, giving him an emotion he felt so deeply but could never adequately articulate. It was the same emotion he felt rising to his feet at the community synagogue, or the sweet nostalgia and comfort of tasting his mother’s latkes when he was a kid. A feeling he couldn’t put into words, but echoed the energy coasting through his veins when he married Andrea. When he met CJ for the first time, when he heard Bartlet speak. The day his brother had been born, when Toby had held him for the first time. Or watching his brother’s bris from a seat, just scared little boy, not understanding the words of the rabbi at all. But even then, he just wanted to protect tiny David from the harshness of the world that even as a kid, he had known. Not all of that was religious faith, more of a belief. A belief in some higher power, a responsibility to live his life deserving of that protection. That rare trust carried him forward— to his destiny, to his family, to his life. Toby had found his voice with that feeling, had found the power he could hold as a writer. To make people believe- in his words, in good people and righteous morals, in change. And he needed the protection of faith, now more than ever. 

He closed his eyes and bowed his head, saying the customary blessing aloud as he wrapped the tallit around his shoulders. The prayer shawl felt heavy on his shoulders, the tangible weight of the fear that sat heavy on his heart. He started to say the words softly, feeling exposed as he knelt down in the hospital room. But as he filled in her name- Claudia Jean Cregg, daughter of Talmidge Cregg- it started to mean something more than just words. More than a ritual he went through just to have all his bases covered. The prayer felt like a lifeline, the only way to stop from drowning in the ocean of pain that had flowed through him ever since Rosslyn. Toby needed the comfort of the mi shebeirach prayer desperately, the familiar rhythm of the words washing over him in waves. But more than that, CJ needed it. She may not be Jewish, or even a very strict Christian, but she had given him back his faith— in love, in goodness, in people. And Toby knew she deserved the veil of safety he felt at this moment, undoubtedly more than he did. So he kept praying, feeling the meaning of the words more acutely than he ever had. 

_HaKadosh Baruch Hu_

_yimalei rachamim aleha,_

_l’hachlimah,_

_u-l’rap’otah,_

_l’hazikah,_

_u-l’chay-otah._

_May the Holy Blessed One_

_overflow with compassion upon her,_

_to restore her,_

_to heal her,_

_to strengthen her,_

_to enliven her._

May the Holy Blessed One overflow with compassion upon her. Because that’s what she deserved, that’s what the woman he loved did every single day for other people without asking anything in return. And God, she needed to survive. He repeated the Hebrew over and over again with a fierce voice, pulling the frayed strings of the tallit around himself like a child with their baby blanket. This wasn’t just a recitation, this was a plea. _I need her to survive,_ he thought, _no matter what I have to do._ The despair in his gravelly voice as he prayed scared him more than anything. Toby felt like a ship, lost at sea, with no one to come back to. And that wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, being stranded. The fear lies in the fact that he wasn’t sure when he had started to care about CJ so deeply that he would risk getting shipwrecked, torn apart and destroyed, just to keep her alive. 

He kept praying, repeating the words urgently like the energy he put into it would increase her chances of survival. Toby felt footsteps near the door and paused, hoping it was just a doctor passing by the room. He was not that lucky. Josh stepped into the room, looking only marginally better than Toby despite having gone home an hour ago. He walked towards CJ’s bed like a ghost, only noticing that someone else was present when Toby resumed the prayer. 

“Oh,” Josh breathed, shock filling his chest like shards of glass. 

He took a moment to take in the whole picture— Toby, kneeling on the grimy hospital floor, head bowed and tallit draped over his body. He was the picture of a man undone, holding onto his faith like a harness during a free fall. In a second, Josh was beside him. He might not have been the most observant Jew, but almost everyone in his family had died. He knew how to say Misheberach. He started to say the words, heart pounding both by the sight of the most vibrant woman he knew, only held together by wires and machines. And by Toby beside him, fiercely crying out for a miracle. 

His voice had a timbre to it that almost unnerved him more than the words he was saying, like he was glass about to shatter. Toby was strong, and stubborn, and brash, and sometimes sad— but not fragile. Never fragile. His voice was a call to arms, meant for performing speeches composed like songs in the depths of his head. This was different. This was a prayer, a plea, an offering of himself for the person he knew that losing would break him. And Josh had never understood Toby so fully before, but now it was as clear as day. He would do anything to keep the people he loved safe. And if he couldn’t do that, if he couldn’t shoulder the suffering of the ones who mattered most to him, he wouldn’t survive. 

Josh took a shuddering breath, trying to block out the too-frequent flashbacks of the times when he had failed to save the ones he loved. But CJ wasn’t Joanie, she wasn’t his dad, she was her own person. He pulled himself back to the prayer, feeling the power of the words he said all too rarely. They prayed together for what felt like an hour but may just as well have been a few minutes, holding each other with a ferocity that would hurt both of their hands if they focused on it too much. Toby stopped with a heaving breath, still holding the edges of tallit together. Josh felt his shoulders drop, overwhelmed by the memories and the worry and the fear. Toby sat next to him like a stonewall, waiting patiently for him to recover. Well, as patiently as he could manage. 

“Joanie used to sing that prayer all the time.” It felt like the air left the room as he spoke, his voice barely audible but the emotion threading through still easy to sense. Toby knew about Joanie, yeah, but not from Josh himself. He had heard it from CJ, probably, or Sam, or maybe even Leo. Josh had never brought it up directly, until now, and Toby had no idea how to react. 

“The Debbie Friedman version?” 

“Yeah,” he laughed softly. “She loved music, any kind. Wanted to be an orchestra conductor. And right before she died, I tried to sing it for her.” 

He took in a quick breath, ignoring Toby’s expression. Memories of that night, that horrible night, filled his head. The immediate aftermath was mostly a blur, but he still had a distant recollection of the ambulance ride to the hospital. Misheberach was the only prayer Josh could recall, and so he had grabbed her hand and poured his soul into it. Voice shaking, mind on a million different things, a six year old boy trying to keep his sister alive. 

God, he missed Joanie— her voice, her smile, her face. He worried about forgetting what she looked like, sometimes. Or how she sounded when she sang, or hummed, or spoke. It terrified him because he knew there would be a day, soon, when he wouldn’t remember anymore. 

“Anyway, uh, it didn’t work.” He knew that was a huge oversimplification, and Toby would most likely take offense from the statement. So he pushed on, trying to keep the cloud of grief from overtaking him completely. “I haven’t said it since. Until now.” 

Without overthinking it too much, Toby reached over and grabbed his hand. They both felt a weight lift off their shoulders— they had given all they could, and now they waited. Toby’s hands slipped away as he turned to look at CJ, This moment felt engraved on Josh’s soul, too profound to fully capture what it meant to him in a few words. 

He tried, though, turning to Toby with a sheepish smile. “Listen, I– I don’t– just,” he swallowed. “Thank you.” 

Toby rolled his eyes without moving his focus from CJ. Josh expected a quip about being a bad Jew or something in that vein, but he didn’t get one. Instead, Toby placed a hand on his shoulder. He had never touched Toby this much before, and especially not like this. But it was weirdly reassuring. The steady weight of the older man’s hand grounded him, in a way, reminding Josh that they were all going through this hellish stretch of uncertainty— not just him. And as they sat there together, tallit still wrapped around Toby like a blanket, both felt less alone than they had all week.

* * *

“Sam- Sam- Sam!” 

The room erupted into a frenzy of wild reporters as soon as he stepped up to the podium, and Sam took a deep breath. How the hell did CJ do this more than once a day? After the first briefing this morning, he hadn’t felt too incompetent. He was still dazed, flashbacks of pushing Josh down circling in his mind. But now, he could see a shift in the demeanors of the press. 

The animals had been let out of the cage. And they were out for blood.

He steeled his mind, bringing back the mindset that had carried him to victory as the top student in Lincoln Douglas debate, who ended up representing California at the 1979 Tournament of Champions. The number one rule of debate— never give away that you don’t know something. Which basically meant _Fake it till you’ll make it._

“Katie?” He held his breath, hoping the amicable twinkle that was ever-present in her eyes wasn’t misleading. 

“Can you give us more information on the suspect in custody? 

He drummed his fingers on the podium, trying to whip up a quick and witty response that CJ would surely have in a second. 

He failed— “No, we’re not releasing information on the suspect.” 

He said it with a smile, hoping to charm the room out of asking anymore questions he couldn’t answer. But they were reporters, and asking questions they knew he couldn’t answer was their job. 

“Is there a reason you aren’t releasing that information? Are they sure about the suspect?”

“I’m reasonably sure there’s no reason, but I can refer you to the FBI on that.” 

“Sam!“ He cut them off early this time, pointing to a reporter in the third row. 

“Ron?” _The ones who aren’t excited won’t kill you,_ he could hear CJ saying. 

“We still haven’t been able to talk to the medical team, can you give us anything on CJ’s surgery?” 

“I can't give specifics on the operation, but the head surgeon, Dr. Keller, should be briefing later today.” 

“Wasn’t he supposed to brief yesterday?” a voice rose out of the clamor, and Sam tried to remember the rules on interruptions. 

“Uh, yes—“ he adjusted his notes, trying to take a minute to figure out the phrasing of his next words. 

“However, there were some complications with CJ’s surgery, and it took some more time than expected.”

He noticed the overall mood of the room darken at that information— Danny looked down at his papers with a sad sigh, and Chris adjusted her glasses and avoided his eyes. They all loved CJ, he realized, despite the invariable back-and-forth of her relationship with each reporter. They were her press room, and she was their press secretary. It was a weird bond, a sort of love-hate relationship, but it still made Sam straighten up and let more sympathy seep into his smile. 

“She’s going to be okay. She’s almost out of the woods, guys.” They seemed to collectively exhale, and he swallowed a smile that his intuition had been right. Everyone was scared right now, even those who seemed unbreakable. He continued with the briefing, trying to focus on the questions instead of his friend, unmoving in a hospital bed. She was going to be okay, just like he had told the press. For now, his job was not to screw up these briefings— and for CJ, he would do his absolute best.

* * *

Andy felt like a ghost. She had been running on purely anger and black coffee for the last few days, running from her office to the hospital and back again. Or maybe it had only been a day, she had no idea. But after meeting with eight different people to track down a congressperson she needed to get a vital sex education bill taken seriously. And they hadn’t even begun to debate it, but people were already shying away from the entire idea. Sometimes she hated politicians so much she couldn’t breathe. 

But the day had moved on and so would she. Andy took a sip of her coffee and let the feelings she’d been trying to avoid wash over her. CJ still hadn’t woken up, according to Toby’s hourly updates. He had called her in the middle of the night after waking up in CJ’s hospital room and not knowing where Andy was. He got panicked, sometimes. Andy lived in Mount Airy, Maryland— a neighborhood that was ranked the fourth safest in the entire state. And her ex-husband still thought that when she didn’t call him, it was because her phone had been stolen at gunpoint or something equally absurd. Though she had to admit, it wasn’t as uncalled for as usual considering what had happened at Rosslyn. She had started to think of it like that in her head— Rosslyn, capital R. It had torn her world to pieces in minutes, so Andy figured the capital letter was well-earned. So now, Rosslyn wasn’t just a place, it was an event. She doubted anyone who was there that night would think of it as merely a city ever again. 

Her phone rang, and she pulled it out of her coat without looking at the name. 

“Hey, Toby,” she said, getting in the car. 

The exhaustion in her voice was clear, and she waited for a remark on it, but it never came. He was too tired to notice— his voice sounded like a well with all the water used up, empty and aching and dry. 

“Hi,” Her hand stilled on the ignition. 

“You sound worried, is she—oh God, Toby, did something happen?” 

“Nothing happened, she’s fine.” 

Andy set her keys down, leaning back in her chair with a shaky breath to recover from the moment of fear. 

_CJ was okay._ All at once, she moved, pushing the car into drive. 

“I’m coming to the hospital.” 

“Andy—“ he sighed. “Okay. Drive safe.” 

Toby hung up unceremoniously, and she found herself smiling at the ways they looked out for each other. Even after the divorce, it was impossible for either to stop caring about each other, and they had slowly pieced back together the shards of what was once their life together. There was a certain beauty in that, she thought, though it tended to get lost in the annoyance of Toby’s stubbornness. 

Andy and Toby were not careful people— they were reckless and stubborn and passionate in life, and in love. And they crashed into each other over and over and over again until the sharp edges of their hearts became weapons instead of diamonds, grating the other where they met and transforming them each into something they didn’t recognize. That’s why they always fought so vehemently, not because of a lack of love but because of the weaponization of it. The two of them were rock-solid, or they thought they were. 

But CJ... CJ was an ocean. She smoothed them out into something better, colliding into their edges with a different type of force— connection, not collision. She moved them. That was the best way Andy could put it. There was a metaphor swirling around in her head about diamonds and pressure, and the ocean, sweeping over the sand until they never wanted to live without her. CJ was a current, flowing and flowing and flowing until she had left them behind, two rocks crumbling like sand. She loved them hard enough to leave them, and that’s what hurt the most. 

Andy drove to the hospital in a daze, trying to figure out what she would say to CJ when she got there. When she finally reached the hospital, she went inside and walked up the stairs to the room feeling her heartbeat loud in her chest. Andy opened the door to CJ’s room without thinking too much— thinking about it made her feel sick. Her ex-girlfriend, her CJ, lying in a hospital bed lifeless and still. 

Imagining it had no comparison to the real thing. 

Andy pushed the door open and took in a sharp breath, shutting her eyes to stop the tears that threatened to fall. CJ looked weak, tubes circling her body and beeping machines reminding Andy how thin the thread was that kept her girl alive. 

But somehow, that wasn’t the part that scared her— the worst part was the way Toby looked beside her. He had kneeled beside the bed and was lost inside a prayer, a desperate plea for healing on behalf of his best friend. She was no stranger to seeing him pray; she had done it with him a few times. But this was different, more urgent than anything she had seen before. 

And Andy had never been more envious of him than in that moment, for being this person who would take on your suffering if it would give you even a moment’s relief. Toby loved so deeply that sometimes, it terrified her. Not because he loved someone else as much as he loved her; that didn’t matter to her. She felt the same way, after all. But because she had no doubt that if CJ were to die tonight- a thought that made her physically ill- Toby wouldn’t survive it. And how the hell was she supposed to survive without either of them? 

She swallowed that thought and walked forward, waiting for him to notice her. Toby looked up a few seconds later, wiping his eyes in a manner he probably thought was discrete. 

“Hey,” she whispered. 

It didn't feel right to talk at full volume, even though CJ couldn't hear. 

“Hey. I’ll give you some time.” He moved to leave and she grabbed his arm, brushing her lips over his cheek. Sadness had taken permanent residence in his eyes, it seemed. Toby had always carried the weight of too many generations’ pain in his body, and that was only worse now. 

_I’m right here with you,_ she wanted to say.

He seemed to get the message, smiling slightly at her as he closed the door. 

Andy walked closer to the bed, staring at CJ with wide eyes. 

“Hey, darling,” she said in a low voice, grazing CJ’s hand with her own. It felt cold, which she should have expected. 

“Oh, you’d hate how you look right now— no makeup, no battle armor, that’s what you always call it.” 

Andy stood there, suspended in fond memories of her and CJ. The first time they met, the first time CJ got up the courage to kiss her, and the last time. All she wanted was to grab CJ by the shoulders and shake her out of this thing, whatever it was. Calling it a coma felt too real, and anything else felt too small. But Andy was a politician— minimizing things in language was what she did. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been to see you. I should have been here. It’s just hard, seeing you like this. But you’re so strong, babe, and you’re doing so well,” she smiled— or tried to smile, thought it came out as more of a grimace.

Using all these terms of endearment made Andy even more nostalgic, but the words flowed off of her tongue and she couldn’t stop them if she wanted to. When CJ woke up from this, which she would, Andy swore to herself she would kiss the life out of her. That promise was the only thing keeping her going. 

“I miss you so much, you know that? It’s only been a few days, but God, it feels like longer. I don't know how much longer I can take this. I still watch your briefings and expect it to be you and not Sam— which, uh, I’m just glad Josh isn’t doing them.” Everything’s just so empty without you, Claud.” She paused, voice thick with emotion that felt like honey, dripping into everything she said. 

“Toby’s going out of his mind. So is Josh, for that matter. They love you so much, I don't even know if they realize it. The other day, I think Donna had to surgically remove both of them from that chair beside your bed. I don't know why I’m expecting you to reply.” Andy let out a low laugh, but there was nothing funny about it. 

“But I don't want you to worry about them. If there’s any chance at all that you can hear me—” she took a deep breath.

“Please wake up. You have to survive this, okay? I know you can do it, you can do anything. And so you have to, because you have to be here for the rest of your life. You have so much of it left, and- you just can’t give up now, okay? I’m not going to lose you to some, some fucking teenage Nazi shitbag who doesn’t know how to aim, it’s just not how it’s going to go down. We’re not over yet, your _life_ is not over yet.”

“And—“ she took a deep breath— “You have to live, because I need you. I need you, CJ, and I love you. I love you, I love you.” She repeated it over and over again with a hoarse voice, not caring who heard her. 

The tears were falling freely now, but she was only focused on the woman she was talking to. Oh God, CJ could die not knowing how she felt about her. That wasn’t a reality she was ready to deal with at all, and so she pushed it out of her head. Instead. she remembered the last thing CJ said to her before the world turned upside down. The hasty “love you” had been a mistake, almost certainly, but it was too much of a comfort in this hellish week to remind herself of that. 

Andy left the hospital, holding onto those words like a port in a storm— a beautiful reprieve from the grief facing her if she thought for too long. CJ had to survive. She had to, even if it was only so Andy could say those words to her again. 

* * *

“Jed, don't you dare move.” 

He sighed, crossing his arms petulantly. 

“CJ is in the same hospital as me, I’m going to go see her!” 

Abbey swatted at him— “Oh, you’re not a child, don't act like one! And yes, I know you want to see CJ. Hell, I want you to see her too, but we're staying here until your heart stops beating like you just ran a marathon.” 

The (mostly fake) anger lifted from his face, and he leaned closer with a smirk that let her know he felt like a much younger man. 

“That’s just what you do to me, baby.” 

“Oh, get a room,” they heard. 

Abbey leaned back from where she was about to kiss her husband, scowling at the interruption until she realized who it was. 

“Zoey!” 

She was up in a second, fussing over her college-age daughter like only a mother deprived of her kids for too long could do. 

“Why do you look so tired, is everything going okay with your classes? If you’re worried about your dad, don't be— as you can see, he’s just as annoying as ever.” 

Zoey let her mom bustle around her, looking to her dad. 

“Do you think if I stand very still she’ll forget I’m here?” 

“Fine, fine, I get it,” Abbey scoffed, stepping back. 

Zoey grinned. “I’m fine, Mom, don't worry.” 

She kissed her mom on the cheek, walking to Jed’s seat on the edge of the bed. 

“Hey, honey,” he smiled. 

She didn't return the greeting, grabbing his shoulder and looking him head on. 

“You have to take your meds and everything, okay? Listen to Mom, she’s usually right.” 

Jed grumbled but didn't argue— she wasn’t wrong. 

Zoey straightened up. “Have either of you seen CJ since, uh, since she had her surgery?” she asked, her face becoming more solemn. 

“We were just talking about that. I want to see her and Mrs. Bossy here won’t let me.” 

“You’re still not stable, and neither is she. We’re not risking any more than we have to, at the very least you’re getting a wheelchair. And that’s Dr. Bossy to you, sir.” Abbey answered the complaint with a firm rebuttal, but her mind drifted to everyone else hurting. 

She lowered her voice. “She’s got plenty of people in her corner, Jed. Andrea Wyatt has been working her ass off trying to get here after work every day, Josh, Donna, and Sam are taking care of everything for CJ’s office, and Toby— well, you know how Toby’s been.” 

He did. The man hadn’t slept in days, too busy watching CJ and worrying about CJ and talking to the family about CJ. He was almost to his breaking point, the President knew, and it hurt to watch.

“Do you think she’s going to be okay, Mom?” Zoey asked softly. She sounded like a child, scared and uncertain. They all felt like that right now. 

Abbey sighed— “I really don't know. She got shot, that’s not an easy thing to come back from. But CJ’s never shied away from something that isn't easy. If I know her at all, she’s fighting like hell to get back to us. I’m just not sure that’s going to be enough.” 

* * *

CJ’s head hurt. That was the only thing registering in her mind right now— stupid, aggravating, overwhelming pain. She groaned softly, but that just made the pain worse. Could anyone hear her? 

The images from the last night she remembered flooded her head— a loud noise, a cold feeling, and blood. So much blood. With a wince, she tried to roll over but could only move an inch. 

“CJ?” she heard a voice say. 

She smiled without even meaning too. 

It was Toby. Her Toby, the only person who would be stubborn— and despite her best efforts, caring— enough to stay here for however long she had been unconscious. 

“Hey,” she tried to whisper. 

She wanted to grab his face and kiss him, to make fun of him for the fact that she had almost died and he was still cowardly to kiss her. But, well, she couldn’t move. So that would have to wait. 

“Oh my god, Jeanie.” He laughed a little in surprise, his face the perfect mix of bewilderment and sweet, beautiful relief. 

Toby rose from the chair beside her bed slowly, trying to stretch out his sore back without her noticing.

 _What an idiot,_ she thought. _She loved him so much._

The thought hit her like a train running off the tracks, wildly racing towards her. 

“Thank god you’re okay,” Toby whispered, touching her face with surprising reverence. She looked beautiful, despite a breathing tube circling her face and the fact that she’d just had a major surgery a few days before. But she was alive. God, she was alive. 

In a second, Toby was across the room. He grabbed the first nurse in sight by the hand, an uncharacteristic smile on his face. 

“CJ’s awake, CJ Cregg. Can you please get the President?” 

The nurse— Isabel, he was pretty sure that her name— smiled, a hint of amused confusion behind it, and nodded. He walked back to CJ, unnecessarily scared to get closer to her again for fear she had become unconscious again. She hadn’t, though. 

He squeezed her hand, ready to say something deeply emotional, and probably regrettable, about how his heart had never been as full as it was in this moment. About the way her eyes looked after waking up was something he missed more than anything in the world. About how she was the sun, bright and boundless and beautiful. And he was just a planet— forever lost in her gravity, but he wouldn’t change a thing. 

But he never got a chance. And maybe that was for the best, because CJ was probably not in the mood to deal with his sappy bullshit. He’d talk to her later. For now, he had people to relay miraculous news to, people to keep away from CJ’s hospital room at all circumstances, and a million other things to take care of to ensure his best friend’s peace of mind. 

Toby started to move closer, not wanting to leave her side for more than a moment, but then remembered he still had to tell Andy. 

“Hey, is it okay if I call Andy? She’s been really worried,” he whispered, brushing his fingers over her cheeks. 

CJ’s face grew warm under his touch and she nodded. He loved how just the thought of Andy, the thought of someone treasuring her safety, made her blush. 

Toby stepped to the side, dialing a number he knew by heart. 

“Hey, Andy—“ 

“Toby! I’ve been trying to get to you all day, my sex-education bill, the Healthy Youth Act, the one I was working on! It got referred to the—“ 

“Andy, that’s great, I already know, CJ’s up.” 

“The Subcommittee on Health— wait, what did you just say?” 

“She’s awake.” 

“Oh my god,” Andy breathed. “Toby...” 

“I know.” 

He could hear her heart beating wildly at the revelation, and understood exactly how she felt. This seemed too good to be true. 

“Okay then. I’m on my way.” 

She hung up without letting him say goodbye, and he put the phone back in his pocket. It felt so good to have good news, to not end a phone call with bad news and a heavy heart. 

Toby kept to the side as the President rushed into the room, Abbey next to him with Leo following close behind. The three of them stood a few feet away from CJ, mirroring Toby’s position earlier. 

“Claudia Jean,” the President bellowed, trying to cover up his uncertainty with tried-and-true grandiose. 

She smiled, mouth moving with no sound coming out. 

“What did you say?” The President stepped forward, placing a hand on CJ’s arm. 

She sat up with a groan, and Toby moved to help her with a gentle hand on her back. The four of them stood there staring at CJ, suspended in the moment before reality set in. Before the nightmares began, before the truth of Toby’s feelings had to come out, before they had to address all of the issues at hand— right now, anything seemed possible. And that was a goddamn wonderful feeling, Toby thought to himself.

“I said—” she repeated with a small smile, trying to hide the pain she was feeling and focus on the triumphant moment at hand. 

“What's next?”

**Author's Note:**

> title from "runaway, run" by molly ofgeography. listen to everything she's ever released, guys, i'm obsessed.
> 
> thank you for reading! comments and kudos make me the happiest girl in the world, and feel free to give me suggestions and prompts for the rest of the series :D


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